Out of Control
by clumsy.carrie
Summary: Hermione Granger has always been the responsible one. She got married a little earlier than planned... but for the most part she can be depended on. What does she do when she gets into a situation she can't read her way out of? HGRW ONESHOT


Hermione Granger exhaled heavily as she sank down against the door of her bathroom. She was clutching a little stick, one of those muggle pregnancy sticks: Hermione, proud to a fault, had been too embarrassed to admit to anyone that she had absolutely no idea how _wizarding_ pregnancy tests worked, much less whether they existed. She knew how to create contraception potions because someone bothered to write _that_ in a book. She knew how to tell the gender of the kid before he or she was born. Incidentally, Hermione was having a baby girl. But no one wrote about pregnancy tests.

So she'd snuck out to the drugstore in the nearest muggle town to the Burrow and bought seven different pregnancy tests, and then apparated back up to her bathroom and locked the door tightly, tightly shut. And then she'd put every cloaking charm she could think of. Only then, had she taken the tests.

And all seven of them confirmed what her missing periods and stomach bug had already told her: she was pregnant.

Oh, Merlin.

What was she supposed to _do_? She was the sensible one—she knew that. Ginny got to be drama queen, Ron the goofy one, Harry was the damaged, save-the-world one. And Hermione was the one who was responsible as hell and stopped the others from killing one another (or themselves) in their escapades.

So _how_ had she gotten pregnant? Hermione hesitated before bursting into tears and slamming the seven pregnancy tests into the garbage can. She slammed through the door of her and Ron's bathroom and into the bedroom, than the hallway, and then down the stairs. George Weasley slid easily out of her way, knowing better than to talk to her, but still rolled his eyes. "Oh, my ickle Ronnikins!" He called out, and Hermione turned around frantically, shaking her head while she waved her hands around. George ignored her. "Your wifey seems rather displeased."

"Mione?" Ron asked anxiously, and Hermione slammed down the stairs and past the living room, where her entire extended family was sitting. Ron jumped up and followed her into the kitchen, shutting the door gently behind him as his wife tore into the bread on the counter top, shoving two pieces into the toaster Mr. Weasley had insisted on getting as he obsessed over his muggle studies before putting her elbows on the counter top and her head in her hands.

Ron immediately wrapped his arms around his wife from behind, pressing his lips to her wild mane of hair for a moment before speaking softly. "Mione, what... what's wrong?" Ron made sure to keep his voice soft—Ginny had beat it into him that when Hermione was upset, he had to be gentle.

Hermione shoved off her husband, storming into the pantry, and Ron raised his eyebrows, looking frantically back at the empty doorway, praying that his sister or mother would appear. He needed back up—it upset him too much to see his wife this upset. "Mione, I can't fix it if you don't tell me," Ron said finally, following her. "And I want to fix it."

"I do _not_ need your help, Ronald." Hermione said acidly, turning to her husband angrily. Ron looked shocked: usually Hermione was so much more put-together than this. "I am _independent_, and I don't need some man—"

"I'm not some man, Hermione!" Ron protested, feeling hurt. "I'm your _husband_! We've been best friends since we were _eleven_!" Hermione stared at him before hurling herself into his arms, sobbing, and Ron wrapped his arms around her, his heart breaking for the twenty-year-old girl in his arms. Whoever had hurt her this badly would pay, he promised himself.

"What if I can't do it?" She begged frantically, pouring out her deepest insecurities and confusing her husband. "What if I screw her up? What if she turns out like Malfoy or if she fails out—can you even flunk out of Hogwarts? Is that _possible_?" Ron was staring at his wife, slow comprehension dawning on his face as hope bloomed in his eyes. "What if she gets expelled? What if she does things as stupid as the things _we_ did?" Hermione was frantic, now, but Ron was looking more and more delighted.

"Are you pregnant?" He whispered hoarsely, pulling back so he could look down at Hermione's face, pushing her hair back from her face. She wailed softly, nodding, and Ron grinned, ducking his head to kiss her excitedly. "You'll be a fantastic mother." He whispered as he pulled away. "You'll be the best." Hermione sobbed softly.

"I want to be so, so badly." She admitted softly. Ron whooped softly and pulled away to look at his wife's perfectly flat stomach, his heart feeling too big for his skinny chest.

"A little you." He whispered. "A little you and me." He grinned outrageously, swooping in for another kiss before deepening it. He pulled away, breathing a little heavily as he leaned his forehead against his wife's. "Merlin, Mione." Ron fell silent, watching his wife's tears fall with growing concern. "Wait, are you... you can't be... you _are_..."

"So happy." Hermione finished with a watery smile. "Just... so scared." She sighed. "I'm not... good with kids, Ronald. I'm an only child, I never had to deal with kids running around or coloring on the walls or whatever it is magical children do to act out." Her voice was speeding up again as she grew more frantic, and Ron felt a small smile curl his mouth before he decided to stop the girl he loved from giving herself a heart attack.

"Listen to me, Mione." He whispered, capturing her face between his large hands, and gazing at her with such intensity that she was loathe to look away. "You will be the best mother. You're brilliant, and you take care of me, and you're gorgeous, and our children will love you." He paused, waiting for his words to sink in and was immensely relieved as she began to grin, her tears ceasing.

"I love you," She murmured, hugging him tightly, and Ron exhaled heavily. "And so you know, it's a girl." Ron felt tears bloom in his own eyes and pressed his face into Hermione's hair. God he hoped his own baby girl had her mom's hair.

His baby girl.

"Everything... okay?" Ginny asked from the doorway, and both Ron and Hermione looked up at their sister/sister-in-law in surprise. How long had she been standing there?

When Ginny saw their teary eyes, her heart leapt. What if something was really wrong? If one of them were sick... tears jumped to her own eyes at the thought of her big brother sick. "Guys?"

"I'm pregnant." Hermione said, grinning suddenly, and Ginny froze for a second, before screaming.

"You're pregnant?!" Ginny said excitedly, rushing forward to hug her sister-in-law tightly. Ron was suddenly grateful for his little sister: she being excited would be comforting for Hermione, he knew. He felt fantastic, as he refused to move his hand from the small of Hermione's back. "Oh, my God, this is so perfect.


End file.
